


Contract Language

by romanticalgirl



Category: House M.D.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-05 15:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not a guarantee of payment.</p><p>Originally posted 10-1-05</p>
            </blockquote>





	Contract Language

Cuddy set a large tan cup in front of Wilson. Steam circled the small opening in the white lid the dissipated in the cold air. “Black with two sugars.”

He nodded without answering then opened the lid, not even looking. “Thanks.”

She sat across from him and followed his gaze back to the hospital. “Worried.”

Wilson looked down at his coffee then took a sip. “Aren’t you?”

She watched as Stacy turned her back on her husband; saw the familiar flicker of defeat in his posture. “It could be a good thing.”

“No.” Wilson pushed his coffee away and got to his feet. “It can’t.”

**

Cuddy followed him to his office and closed the door. Conscious of their own recent voyeuristic tendencies, she moved to the blinds. Confident that there was no one outside, she shut them. “I’m going to ask you a personal question that I have no right to ask. And because of that, I’m going to ask you as your friend. Not your boss.”

Wilson smirked. “We’re friends?”

She cocked an eyebrow in acknowledgement. “Co-conspirators then.”

He shrugged. “No. I’m not gay and I’m not in love with House. I’m also, just for the record, not in love with Stacy.” He smiled as she closed her mouth. “Greg and I Have been friends for a long time. Which means I’ve been around through the good times, the bad times and, most commonly, the really bad times.”

“But he loves her.”

“Be neither of them are the same people they were. And, whether or not they admit it, underneath all that residual sexual tension is pure, bitter resentment.”

Cuddy ran a finger along the edge of his desk, biting her lower lip in thought. “So, what do we do?”

“Wait. Watch. Clean up the fall out.”

She nodded and looked at him. “Anything else?”

He gestured to the clock as it edged toward five. “Drink.”

**

“I was married once.” Cuddy sipped her scotch. “I was a doctor’s wife.” Her laugh was bitter. “I was also a doctor and a PhD in business administration, but I wasn’t allowed to mention that fact at the cocktail parties.”

“Sounds like a winner.” Wilson licked Guinness foam from his upper lip. “My wives all married me for the distinct honorific of doctor’s wife.”

“I’m sure that’s all it was.”

“Given that I’m on number three, I’m thinking it can’t be because they liked me much.” He took another drink. “And before you say anything, they all knew House beforehand.” He smiled as she laughed. “So, what did you do with your doctor husband?”

“I had him introduced to a very lovely, very young research assistant one night and waited for both nature and his ego to take over. He was having an affair within a week. When we got divorced, the court stipulated that he could receive alimony if he so chose.”

“Ouch.”

“He got fined $5000 for contempt of court when he told the judge what he could do with his alimony.” Cuddy laughed. “The judge told he him looked like he was about to have a heart attack and asked him if he needed a doctor.”

“Are you sure House wasn’t the judge?” Cuddy smiled and finished her drink as Wilson studied her. “So? Anyone since then?”

“No husbands. Though I did date the judge for about a year afterwards.”

Wilson nodded thoughtfully. “Should I turn your question back on you?”

“No. I’m not in love with House.” She nodded her thanks as the waitress set new drinks in front of them. “I’ve had my fill of sarcastic, self-loathing men.”

“But you’d still fuck him?”

Cuddy looked up at the harsh term, the slightly bitter tone. She reached out and rested her hand on his. “Are you hungry?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Come on. My treat.”

**

Wilson raised an eyebrow as they stepped into the restaurant. “Wow. Is this what it’s like to be a doctor’s wife?”

“No. If you’re a doctor’s wife, you’re usually here alone.” She smiled up at the maitre d as he guided her chair under the table. “Or you’re home alone while the doctor is treating his secretary or nursing assistant.”

“Or boss?”

“I said it was my treat.” She tapped the back of his hand, her breath catching slightly as he turned it over and her fingers settled lightly on his palm. “So, more precisely, my head of oncology.”

“My wife is probably watching Wheel of Fortune.”

Cuddy didn’t look away as the waiter approached them. “What are you hungry for?”

Wilson pulled his hand free and picked up the menu. “What’s good here?”

“Everything.”

“I’ll tell you what then.” He set the menu down and leaned forward, letting his hand slide back to reclaim hers. “You order for the both of us. See if you can guess what I’m hungry for.”

Cuddy swallowed and nodded once, giving him a slight smile as the waiter reached their table. She ordered for the both, her eyes carefully not glancing at her wrist where his thumb was tracing slow circles over her pulse. She only looked at him once as she ordered a bottle of wine, waiting for his nod of approval before suggesting the year. The waiter nodded and moved away and she finally let her eyes drift to the table. “So.”

He gave her a slow, lazy smile that echoed his boyish charm. “So. You never answered my question.”

“I thought you’d already assumed the answer and anything I might say was superfluous.” Her eyes flicked down to his thumb. “Are you sure you didn’t intend to ask if I’d fuck you?”

“I thought that’s the question you were asking.” He released her hand and picked up his water glass, taking a sip. “Isn’t that what this is all about?”

“This is actually about dinner. If it weren’t, I would have bypassed the dining room altogether.”

“Unless you weren’t sure of me.”

“I wouldn’t invite my head of oncology out if I weren’t sure of him.” She smiled as the wine steward arrived with their wine and poured. Wilson nodded without tasting it and waited for him to fill her glass before raising his in a toast. “To pure, bitter resentment.”

“And other bad relationships?”

He brought his glass against hers and leaned in, dropping his voice. “To being sure of things.”

“To bypassing dinner?”

He touched his glass to his lips then pulled it away and smiled. “To doctor’s wives. Before and after the fact.”

**

Cuddy walked slowly in front of him, the sway of her hips changed by the food and the wine as they passed the columns that led to the low lawn. Wilson stopped and leaned against one of them, watching her. He lowered his lashes, shadowing her movements.

“What’s after Wheel of Fortune?”

“Jeopardy, which she’s terrible at. Then a few drinks before something or other and then bed.”

“Does she wait up for you?”

“She stopped that a long time ago.” He pushed off the column and moved closer to her, falling in step behind her as she made her way along the edge of the steps. “She said it stopped being worth it.”

“So why are you still married?”

“Because I love her. And she loves me. We just don’t like each other very much. And we don’t want the same things. But inertia is easier.” He stopped again and rested his hand against the white pillar. “Inertia also doesn’t cost me half of my life until she finds a nice pediatrician or veterinarian to settle down with.”

“I think hanging out with House has rubbed off on you in your personal life.” She smiled at him in the faded light. “Not professionally though. I think maybe you transfer all your emotion and affection to your patients, so there’s none left for your wife.”

“Or do I transfer it all to my patients because my wife doesn’t want any of it?’ He held up his hand, palm up. “Or am I just trying to make up for House’s complete lack of bedside manner?” He reached out and caught her hand, pulling her closer. “Is his manner any better in bed?”

“Why do you think I’ve slept with him?”

“Why else do you put up with him?”

“Am I supposed to turn that around on you?” She smiled and moved even closer, her hand resting on his chest. “I should take you back to the hospital so you can go home and answer all the Jeopardy questions correctly, impress the little woman and repair your marriage.”

“You should bypass dinner.”

He could hear the hitch as her breath caught. “We’ve had dinner.”

His hand curved against her cheek and he leaned closer, tasting her breath and the scent of the wine. “You never did ask me if you ordered what I wanted.”

“Did I?”

“I wanted room service.”

“You’re a married man.”

“No more so than I was when you invited me here.”

“I didn’t invite you here to seduce you.”

His eyebrow rose slowly, suggestively. “You didn’t?” He backed away and moved off toward the lobby. “My mistake. In that case, you’d better take me back where you found me.”

**

“We need to talk.” Cuddy looked up as House entered her office, his cane gripped tightly in his hand, his knuckles white around the handle. He sat opposite her without invitation and settled his cane between his legs, both hands resting on top of it. “Now.”

“I’m busy.”

“Not too busy for this.” He held her gaze defiantly, the brilliant blue of his eyes brighter with intensity. “I heard a rumor that you and Wilson had dinner.”

“And for that you felt the need to rush into my office and interrupt my work? I appreciate you limping all this way, Dr. House, but I don’t…”

“He’s married.”

“So is Stacy.”

His jaw tightened. “There’s nothing going on between Stacy and myself.”

“I’m sure that’s what she’s telling her husband on a nightly basis. Or maybe she’s trying to convince herself.” She tapped the chart in front of her. “I do have business to attend to, House.”

“Wilson doesn’t need this.”

“First of all,” Cuddy managed a brittle smile, “you dictating what anyone needs, especially fringing on an emotional need is nothing less than laughable. The only emotional needs you’re capable of catering to are the ones brought on by your own deep attachment to narcotics. Wilson, in case you haven’t noticed, is a very capable doctor and an adult and far more mentally, physically and emotionally balanced than you’ve ever been. Now, are we done here?”

“He’s a nice guy.”

“Well then, you have nothing to worry about, do you? Because nice guys don’t do bad things. And nice married guys most certainly don’t go out to dinner with their bosses. Or maybe they do, and it’s only a cantankerous lech such as yourself that would view it as anything other than a business dinner.” She challenged him with her glare. “Are we done?”

“If Julie so much as catches him in a lie, she’ll take him for everything he has. And I don’t think either of us want to see that.”

“Really? Is that why you’re nothing but charming to her? Or is it that you keep hoping that she’ll catch him in exactly that, Dr. House, so you can sweep in and be there for him.”

House straightened in his chair, his eyes dangerous. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re so smart, doctor. Figure it out.” She glanced back down at her desk, effectively dismissing him. “Just do it somewhere else.”

**

“Ouch!” Wilson jerked away from House’s cane as it jabbed him in the spine. “What the hell was that for?”

“You and I need to talk.”

“What?” Wilson rubbed the small of his back and glared at House. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Why do you always assume that you’ve done something?”

“Because you’ve usually cooked up some extraneous charges to pin on me that have nothing to do with what you’re really angry about, but you like to vent and I’ve been voted whipping boy.”

“Is that what you told Cuddy at dinner?”

Wilson stopped walking. “What?”

“Ah-ha. No denial.”

“What is a question, as in what the hell are you talking about. It really isn’t a denial or lack of denial. It’s a quest for clarification, which is something your fond of.” He started walking again. “Now. What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your language is certainly more vulgar these days. What’s the matter? Little woman not putting out? Getting a little frustrated?” House measured his stride with Wilson’s. “Starting to cast that wandering eye on the upper echelons of management?”

“You’ve had too many vicodin.” He smirked. “What’s the matter? Stacy not falling prey to your lack of charm?”

“I’m charming. In my own way.”

”In your own mind.” Wilson rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Is that what this is? You’re frustrated about Stacy and the lack of relationship, which I should remind you is exactly how it should be considering the fact that she’s happily married, and so you’re projecting what you wish were her cheating ways onto me?”

“You’re not know for faithfulness.”

“I’ve been prone to a wandering eye, yes.” Wilson shrugged. “Not wandering hands. Or any other body parts, before you go there.”

“Cuddy’s marginally attractive. Yet you’ve never mentioned her.”

“She’s my boss,” Wilson laughed. “Unlike Cameron, I don’t have a wish to be eviscerated on my annual reviews.”

“Cameron would get eviscerated even if she hadn’t had a crush on me.”

“But now she’ll feel it more. It’s a wonder you don’t make having a thing for you a requirement.” Wilson stopped outside his office. “Are we done with this topic now?”

“You never answered my question about dinner with Cuddy.”

“We both worked late. We got a bite to eat.”

“And had sex?”

“No.” He sighed. “If you want to know the truth, we talked about you and Stacy. And whether or not we should brace ourselves for fall out.”

“There’s nothing going on between us.”

“Well, remember that phrase whenever you think of me and Cuddy.” He nodded toward his office. “I have work to do.”

House watched as Wilson rubbed the small of his back again. Nodding toward it, he smiled. “Vicodin. Works wonders.”

**

“Is it safe to sit here?” Cuddy set a cup of coffee in front of Wilson.

“Got the lecture too, did you?” Wilson accepted the cup and nodded toward the window of Stacy’s office where House stood, obviously arguing with her. “I think he’s discovered the meaning of double-edged sword.”

“Something about lecturing a married man about having an affair not being exactly the wisest thing to do when you’re attempting to embark on the same with a married woman?”

“He says there’s nothing going on.”

“Everyone says that whether there’s something going on or not.” Cuddy picked up her own coffee and sipped it slowly as House glanced in their direction. He held their gaze then turned back to Stacy, leaving the office quickly. She cast a glance their way and then moved over to the window and snapped the blinds closed. “So much for the show.”

“I don’t know if I could have actually stomached it if something had happened.”

“I can’t see House being that indiscrete.”

“House is the man who lied to get a murderer transferred to our hospital, and you have a hard time picturing him having sex with a married woman in her office?”

“With the blinds open, yes.”

“You don’t know him very well then.”

“Exhibitionist?”

“House is very proud and determined to prove that his leg is not a hindrance to anything he wants to put his mind to.”

“I would think the leg would provide some challenges.”

“And what does House love more than a challenge?” Wilson finally took a drink of his coffee. “What brings you out here?”

“I was wondering how Jeopardy went the other night?”

“She was actually watching Lifetime. No jeopardy at all.”

“Really?” She rubbed the side of her coffee cup with her thumb then set her hand on the table next to his, the pad of her thumb still warm from the cup as she touched his wrist just above his sleeve. “And tonight?”

“Part two of some trashy Danielle Steel made-for-TV movie.”

“Involving?”

“Full of lying, cheating men; whoring, man-stealing women and misunderstood heiresses.”

“Worth seeing?”

He shook his head. “There are better things to do with your time.” He got up, his hand lingering against hers. “But it’s on at eight, if you’re bored.”

She nodded, inhaling sharply. “Will I be?”

Wilson smiled and headed for the hospital, not looking back.

**

“Dr. Cuddy?”

Cuddy looked up from her desk and managed a smile. “Dr. Cameron.”

“Do you have a second?”

She glanced at the clock and then at her watch. “Barely. What can I do for you?”

“I have some concerns. About…about Dr. House.”

“The line forms in the rear.”

“And Stacy.”

“Ah.” Cuddy pushed her papers away from her. “Your concern is duly noted, Dr. Cameron, but Dr. House and Stacy are both consenting adults. They’re in no way an ethical question on the work front, though there are a few that pop up on the personal front. However, those questions are all on Stacy’s side, and not on Dr. House’s. If you have issues with his behavior in regards to this, you might want to bring it up with him.”

“I can’t.”

“Because he’ll assume it’s jealousy?”

Cameron’s face stilled and she shrugged. “I’m over that. Over him. It was just infatuation and admiration.”

“And lust. Let’s call a spade a spade.” Cuddy flashed her a smile. “I realize that House’s behavior is probably painful for you, but I can’t step in unless he does something that jeopardizes his patients and/or this hospital. And, as Stacy is our legal counsel, I really doubt she’d let him do that.”

“You’ve met Dr. House, right?” Cameron paced the width of her office. “I just don’t think it’s right. She’s married. She has a duty to her husband, who, for all intents and purposes is still Dr. House’s patient.”

“Dr. House isn’t in charge of his rehabilitation, simply his cure.”

“You’re acting like it’s no big deal that he wants to sleep with a married woman.” Cameron frowned. “This is a real hospital, not an episode of ER. Do you not see that her sleeping with him compromises her integrity in any legal situation involving him? Do you really think that if he’s willing to violate the sanctity of marriage he’s going to uphold any moral and ethical code that’s put down in front of him?”

“I realize that your perception of marriage is colored by your husband’s…”

“This has nothing to do with that. And it has nothing to do with House or how I feel…felt about him.”

“I can’t make him into a saint, Dr. Cameron. I can barely make him into a somewhat rule-abiding doctor. I’m his boss, not his mother and certainly not his priest. If he wants to sleep with a married woman and she consents, there’s no legal or moral position I can confront him with. If it puts a patient or this hospital at direct risk, yes, I have a leg to stand on. As it is; however, I have nothing.” She glanced at her watch again. “I’m sorry, Dr. Cameron.”

“Yeah. Thank you. For nothing.”

**

Cuddy opened the door, wine glass in hand, and saluted him. “Hi.”

Wilson lifted an eyebrow as he surveyed her grey sweats, t-shirt and ponytail. “Somehow not the picture of what I was expecting.”

“I got an unintended lecture from Dr. Cameron in regards to the sanctity of marriage and the evils of violating the sacrosanct union.” She poured herself more wine and held out the bottle. “Want a glass?”

“Of Cameron’s blood?”

She cracked a smile. “Merlot.”

“Close enough.” He nodded. “Sure.” She poured and offered it to him, moving to settle on the couch, tucking her feet up under her. “So she laid it on thick, did she?”

“Trying to get me to impose my rigid authority between House and Stacy and make them see the error of their ways.” She watched him with narrowed eyes as he sat across from her in the low-slung chair. “She’s still got it bad for him.”

“I don’t know that we all helped by encouraging her. And him.”

“I wish he would have fucked her and gotten out of her system.”

“You think fucking him would have gotten him out of her system?”

“I think a man tearing you down after he’s fucked you is infinitely more powerful than a man just tearing you down.” She ran her hand over the nape of her neck. “Of course, I don’t know that she could have withstood that.” Taking another sip, she glanced at him over the top of her glass. “I understand there’s a decent movie on TV tonight.”

“Do you believe what she said?”

“That marriage is a sacred pact?” At his nod, she shrugged. “I think marriage shouldn’t be entered into lightly. But we make mistakes with life and death every day.” She glanced away from him toward the black window. “Why is that so much easier to understand than mistaking someone for something they’re not or never could be.”

“Is that what you think of marriage?”

“I think a lot of people make a lot of mistakes in the name of love and lust.” She gestured between them with her glass. “Case in point.”

“Are we making a mistake?”

“Thanks to Dr. Cameron? I don’t foresee it.”

Wilson pursed his lips and thought for a moment before getting to his feet. Cuddy stood as well, stooping slightly to put her glass on the table. As she straightened, Wilson threaded a hand through her hair, pulling it tighter than the band of her ponytail. “I think marriage is the most important and sacred oath you can take, even higher than the Hippocratic Oath. But it’s an oath that you don’t make to a million faceless people that will come into your exam room or your office or your practice or your hospital. It’s an oath you make to someone who may view it as nothing more than a passport to a better life and a better wardrobe and a bigger TV.”

“It’s also possible that a man who wants very much to do something to break that oath would describe it that way to alleviate his guilt?”

“If all I wanted was someone else, I wouldn’t be here, Lisa.”

Her breath caught at the sound of her name and she licked her lips, her hand clenching against his dress shirt. “It doesn’t seem slightly convenient that House is suddenly occupied with Stacy and here we are?”

“He’s got someone else to mind him. We’ve got a minute free.” He brought his other hand up to trace the curve of her cheek. “Tell me no, and I’ll walk out the door.”

“I have this dress upstairs. It’s dark blue and lacy and so tight I can’t wear anything underneath it. I was going to answer the door in it. You want to see it?”

“No.” He leaned in and brushed her lips with his. “I want to see what you were going to wear underneath it.”

“This is a bad idea.”

“Monumentally bad,” he agreed, closing his eyes as he found her mouth, the slightest pressure against her lips for an instant before he pulled back and stared at her, eyes like thick chocolate, warm with heat. “But we’re not going to stop, are we?”

She shook her head. “No.”

**

She didn’t look back as she walked up the stairs to her bedroom, though he held her hand lightly in his as he followed her. When she reached the top, she did turn and offered him a small smile and a slow lick of her lips. “I feel like I’m 16 and trying to sneak past my parents’ bedroom door.”

“Your parents live here?”

Her smile widened and she shook her head. “Are you nervous?”

He smiled in return. “Petrified.” He took a step toward her and guided her against the wall, placing his arms on either side of her. He cast a quick glance down between them. “In more ways that one.”

“That was worthy of House.”

“A bit too juvenile?” He pressed their bodies together, easing his leg between both of hers. “But true.”

“What are you thinking about?” Her eyes were worried, troubled as they met his.

“Honestly? Whether or not you’re wearing a bra under that shirt.”

She laughed and shook her head. “I’m 16 and you’re 12.”

“I’m okay with an older woman.” He leaned in and licked her lips before pressing his own to them and kissing away the dampness, pulling back for a moment before kissing her again, his tongue parting her lips this time and tangling with hers. Cuddy moaned low in her throat and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. He broke away slowly and pulled back, his eyes dark and bright all at once. “So are you?”

“Wearing a bra?”

“Yeah.”

She slipped out of his arms and started down the hall. “Come and see.”

He followed her, loosening his tie as he went, easing it away from his neck as he reached her bedroom door. She turned to face him, watching as he leaned against the doorjamb and unbuttoned the top button. “Take off your shirt.”

“You don’t want to take it off me?”

“If I take it off you, I won’t get to enjoy the view.” He unbuttoned another button. “And, as much as I’ve enjoyed the tantalizing glimpses you’ve given us over the years, I’d rather have my first real look at them be uninterrupted.” He undid another button. “Please, Lisa?”

“Those glimpses were never meant for House, you know.” She fingered the collar of her t-shirt then glanced beneath the fabric. “Oh, what do you know.” She tugged it over her head and dropped it to the floor. Wilson caught his breath, the sound loud in the room as she smiled. “No bra.”

“Promise me something.”

“What’s that?”

He swallowed hard. “Never show those to Greg.”

“I don’t have any intention of doing so.” She slid her fingers beneath the waistband of her sweats. “Come on now, Dr. Wilson. Tit,” she smiled, “for tat.”

He tugged his shirt free of his slacks and pulled it over his head and letting it fall at his feet. “Somehow I think I got the better end of this deal.” He took a step toward her as she pushed her sweats down, the pink thong standing out starkly against her skin. He exhaled in a huff. “Oh.”

She smiled and hooked her thumbs beneath the waistband. “Well?”

He unhooked his belt and then his slacks, pushing them over his hips and stepping out of them, his shoes buried at the bottom of the pile of fabric. “God, you’re beautiful.”

She walked up to him, her fingers gliding along his stomach, ruffling the dark hair on his chest down to the thick band of his boxers. “I’m shaking.”

He caught her hand in his and threaded their fingers together. “Hell, I’ve been shaking since the other night.” He released her hand and touched her shoulder, his fingers tracing over her collar bone down to the swell of her breasts. His breath shuddered as he traced the darkness of her areola then the hard tip of her nipple, the skin tightening beneath his touch. He swallowed and raised his eyes to hers. “Lisa…”

Her fingers shook as she reached out and touched his lips, parting them with the light pressure. “James.”

“Fuck,” he breathed, reaching for her and lifting her, his hands at the base of her neck and the small of her back as he found her lips with his, thrusting his tongue between her parted lips. She moaned low, wrapping her legs around him, the movement grinding her body against his, heat surrounding his cock. He broke the kiss long enough to breathe her name, stumbling toward the bed as her nails raked through his hair, tugging at the short strands as she sucked on his tongue.

He sat on the edge of the bed, turning and laying her against the pillows. He stood and shucked his boxers, edging her legs apart as he crawled up the length of her, one hand reaching past her to push her dress off the bed. “It really is a good dress,” she gasped as his hands returned to her inner thighs, spreading them as he lay between them.

“I much prefer what you’re wearing.” He caught her thong with his finger and tugged the fabric away from her skin, his breath feathering over the damp flesh. “And soon to be not wearing.” He knelt between her legs and eased the thong over her thighs and calves then dropped it to the floor. He guided her legs down on either side of him and moved forward, his mouth leaving a trail of warm, wet kisses on the smooth skin of her thighs.

Cuddy’s fists curled into the comforter as the brush of his lips and stubble grazed her skin, his hands sliding beneath her legs and angling them upward as he inched closer to the heat of her arousal. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she fought to breathe, his teeth nipping lightly at her skin before the hard pressure of his tongue slipped past the slick folds of flesh to circle her clit.

Her back arched, her heels digging into mattress. Wilson’s hands edged higher, cupping the curves of her ass as his tongue continued relentlessly, circling her clit again and again before sliding across it, eliciting harsh groans of pleasure from deep within Cuddy’s throat. His hands held her as his tongue dipped inside her, tasting wetness before sliding down her perineum and back up, thrusting inside rapidly as she released the comforter and caught his hair in her hands. “James,” she panted softly, his name a plea.

“Hush,” he whispered, flicking his tongue over her clit once more. “I’m playing doctor.”

She writhed as his tongue continued moving over her clit, stroking it in time to the slow thrust of his fingers as they penetrated her. His name broke on her lips as her nails scraped through his hair, her hips rolling up to greet his thrusting tongue. He groaned against her skin and brought his head up, gasping for breath as her orgasm coated his fingers. He eased them free of her and crawled up her body as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him down toward her.

Her body glistened with perspiration as he lay between her thighs, his cock hard and hot against her. She swallowed and thrust against him, her wet flesh warm on his. She licked her lips and then bit the lower one, her chest brushing against his with every breath. “James.”

He shook his head and buried his face against her shoulder, tasting perspiration and salt on her skin as his hips rocked of their own volition against her willing flesh. The balls of her hands pressed against his back, her nails grazing his skin for a moment before she pulled her hands away.

“I’m afraid to touch you.” She kissed his temple as he raised his head. “I want to run my nails down your back and dig them into your skin and I’m afraid to leave a mark.”

He caught his breath on a soft laugh. “Lisa, I wouldn’t be here if I cared if she’d notice.” He reached down with one hand and pressed the tip of his cock to her opening, his fingers wet with the slick residue of her orgasm. “I want to wince in the shower as the hot water hits the marks you leave in your wake.” He pushed slightly, edging into her slowly. “I want to hiss and feel my cock harden as I think of you scratching me.”

She gasped as he filled her, his cock sliding in with one final thrust. Her legs flexed around him, pulling him deeper. Her nails found his back, scraping along the length of it as he pulled back then thrust in again, his rhythm slow and steady as they moved together, learning the contours of each other’s bodies. Her hands rounded his shoulders then smoothed along his sides catching the sharp jut of his hips as she stretched her legs out along his.

Wilson hissed through his teeth as she tightened around him, flesh tight and firm as he stroked his cock into her. Her body was fluid and rigid beneath him as he found her mouth, his tongue echoing the movement of his thrusts. He pulled back and caught her eye, smiling hungrily. “It’s sort of a crime.”

“What’s that?” She panted softly.

“That I’ve had these at my disposal and I’ve ignored them up to now.” He levered himself down to his elbows, hips still moving with hers, as his mouth centered above her left breast, his breath warm over the taut nipple. “What do you think? A punishable offense?”

She nodded as she tightened one leg around both of his and pressed up against him. He groaned as he caught her nipple between his lips, tongue teasing the hard tip. He sucked gently then harder, her gasp of pleasure tangling in his hair as her body tightened.

“Spanking?” He asked with a soft lick of the swollen flesh.

She laughed huskily. “Clinic duty.”

“Ouch.”

“Unless you can think of a more fitting punishment.”

“Make me do this again and again until I get it right?” He moved to the other breast and licked it quickly before raising up onto his hands again and smiling down at her. “I’m a very slow learner, you know.”

“One often finds that in a head of oncology who’s only 36.” She reached up and touched his lips. “I guess regular lessons will be required.”

He kissed her fingertips. “Definitely.” He rolled his hips, filling her again. “Weekly at least. Nightly maybe.”

She laughed as he thrust faster, harder, their bodies moving together, oiled by perspiration and need. “Lunches.”

“Coffee breaks.”

“Clinic hours.”

“Exam room three?”

Her laughter was barely more than a panting breath. “Consults.”

“We could scandalize your secretary.”

“We’ll break the heart of every nurse that has her eye on you.” She licked her lips as she closed her eyes, tilted her head back as he licked her neck. “The nurses’ lounge will be sheathed in black.”

“As long as I’m sheathed in you,” he whispered against her skin, burying himself deeper, the hot rush of his orgasm filling her. She shuddered beneath him, following him over the edge as his soft words reached her ears and feathered down her nerves. He lay above her, inside her, not moving, just breathing the scent of her in. “Lisa.”

She trailed her hand along his spine. “James.”

“God.” She laughed and pushed him off of her, moving to straddle his waist. Her hands feathered through the slick, damp hair that arrowed down his stomach. He looked up at her, unable to keep from grinning. “What are you doing?”

“It’s my turn to play doctor.”

**

“Okay. Give up the goods. You look like the cat that swallowed the canary…or some kind of pussy.” House raised an eyebrow. “Come on. Don’t tell me Julie put out again. That would make, what? Three times in a year?”

“Even if there were anything to tell,” Wilson got up from his desk and fell in step with House as they turned toward the hallway, “I sure as hell wouldn’t tell you.”

“You got lucky.”

“You say that because I’m smiling? I always smile. I’m a smiling kind of guy.”

“Yes, which is very wrong for your specialty. They like somber doctors. Ones that look like they’ve been out of medical school more than three years.” His cane beat a staccato beat on the tile. “Come on. I know there’s something. What’s her name? What bar did you find her in?”

“What? You think I’d put my marriage at risk for some bimbo I met in a bar?”

“If she’s stacked? Yes.” House stopped walking and rested his hand on the door of the conference room. “Unless it was a nurse. The nurses love you.”

“That’s because I’m nice to them. You should try it.”

“I’m not nice to patients. Why would I be nice to nurses?” House raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t Cuddy, was it?”

“It wasn’t anybody.” Wilson nodded as Cuddy and Stacy walked past them, heading the opposite direction. “How’s your love life?”

“I hate you.”

“Coming from you, House?” Wilson smiled at him as he started to walk away, “That’s a pretty high compliment.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
